


Burden of memories

by Melime



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Bittersweet, M/M, Mirkwood, Post-War of the Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21899821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melime/pseuds/Melime
Summary: A visit to his long abandoned former home with Gimli brings back unexpected feelings for Legolas.
Relationships: Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45
Collections: Lord of the Rings Secret Santa 2019





	Burden of memories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Empy (Empyreus)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empyreus/gifts).
  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [Peso das memórias](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23323834) by [Melime GreenLeaf (Melime)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melime/pseuds/Melime%20GreenLeaf)



Legolas touched the rotting tree, long since dead, corrupted and poisoned beyond salvation, just as many others around it, bodies standing as a monument to what Greenwood used to be. The forest would recover, in time. The signs of new life were already visible all around them, although the tall trees the forest was known for would take centuries, or even millennia to grow. But he wouldn’t be there to see this, not so long after anyone he cared about would have died or left, and it would never return to being the forest he knew.

He closed his eyes, touching his forehead to the trunk, momentarily overtaken by emotion, remembering what was gone and could never return. At times like this he could understand why almost all of the others left. Even being still young, he could still be crushed by the weight of the memories carried by the decaying ruins of a soon to be forgotten past.

He was brought back to the present by a hand on his lower back. “Are you unwell?” Gimli asked.

Legolas let go of the tree and shook his head. “Too many memories haunt these roots. I remember climbing this tree to watch the path below, while there were still visitors to these woods.”

Gimli nodded. There wasn’t anything he could say, so he said nothing, instead keeping a comforting hand on Legolas’ back and moving it in soothing circles.

“What a terrible host you must find me, after keeping you so close to the entrance of the woods when there is still so much beauty inside, even now. Life is bursting once again, even if the corruption will take a long time to be reclaimed by nature.”

“Many of the halls of my ancestors are now nothing more than mausolea, their beauty covered by bones and ash. But underneath the rock is still as beautiful as when it was first carved, even when the pain of loss prevents us from seeing that,” Gimli offered, having experienced much of the same grief before. The mourning for a way of life, more than for the people who were lost.

Legolas nodded. Despite all the damage done by Sauron’s vile influence, the forest was still pulsating with life. He still missed its presence, not only as it had once been, but as it was now.

“There is a clearing not far from here. We could rest for the night, and come morning I will show you the history that isn’t yet lost.”

“Show the way, but don’t forget to call our stubborn companion, I don’t think he listens to me,” Gimli said, pointing at their horse, who had kept in place where they dismounted, a little behind in the path.

The way to the clearing was easy, but once there Legolas was yet again taken by memories, touching the familiar trees around the edge, saddened by the ones that were decaying, but glad to see the ones that remained healthy, while Gimli took the setting the camp.

Gimli gave him some time before gently taking his hand and guiding him back to the camp.

Usually, Legolas wouldn’t be tired so soon after he had last rested, although he refrained from complaining about their stops, most of the time, both in respect to Gimli and because otherwise Gimli would try to pretend that he wasn’t tired either.

However, the emotional burden of seeing his home for the first time in so long, now devoid of his people, the people he had willfully, albeit perhaps not knowing, abandoned, first by choosing to fight for the land they no longer believed in and then by staying behind when all but one other had left, had taken its tow on him. He felt exhausted in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

He curled up against Gimli, staring up at the sky covered in leaves, the tree coverage so thick over the small clearing that not a single star was in sight. The green was starting to spread, although less so in the tallest trees. Still, it was beautiful, and it was just what he wanted to show Gimli. His home that no longer was his home.

“How are you feeling?” Gimli said, petting his hair softly.

Legola leaned against the touch. “Nostalgic, melancholic, hopeful. More than I can express in words.”

“Do you want to talk?”

Legolas shook his head. “Perhaps in the morning, I would rather sleep now.”

Gimli nodded, and gave him a kiss on the top of the head as a way of goodnight.

In this familiar setting where he both felt at home and out of place, Legolas drifted to sleep.


End file.
